Endless Night
by BlueberryPancakes
Summary: The hurricane has taken its toll.  Grovette slash.
1. I

The wind howled; sharp hands ripping at the canvas sails. The sea turned her forces on the straining ship. Wave crashed against the hull, spray beating the men on deck as they ran frantically, trying to stay afloat and not be swept overboard, to certain death.

The Commodore fought hard at the wheel. He would not give up. He could not. The lives of his men depended on him.

Andrew Gillette slid on the sopping deck, body slamming hard against the railing. He grimaced and forced himself back up again. He looked around, eyes darting frantically, seeking desperately for a glimpse, anything. He shouted, but his voice was lost against the wind.

The wave came silently. The howling wind suddenly silenced. The horrid, slow cracking penetrated the air. The _Dauntless_, the pride of the Caribbean, broke into bits against the unhinged power of the storm. The shouts and cries of the drowning crew blurred into the wails of the hurricane.

The water stung and burned, the salt biting at his wind-whipped skin. Andrew coughed and choked, fighting to stay above water. He grabbed wildly, searching for a fragment of the once-proud ship.

He felt a blunt force come against him. He opened his eyes. His vision was blurred.

"Hold on."

He didn't need clear sight to see him. He held on tight. They would make it through. The swells tossed them up and down, bobbing like a child's bath toy. Clenched hands turned white against the strain.

He never saw the silent, rising wave. The water crashed down on top of him, plummeting him downward, breaking away chunks and loosely connected pieces of the splintered wood.

The wave quelled as he surfaced, gasping and shaking, eyes wide, blinded by the salty spray.

Theodore was gone.

"Teddy!"

Shards of wood dug deeply into his hands, penetrating the skin.

_Goodbye._

_Where has the starlight gone?  
Dark is the day  
How can I find my way home?  
Home is an empty dream  
Lost to the night  
I feel so alone_


	2. II

_Where has the starlight gone?  
Dark is the day  
How can I find my way home?  
Home is an empty dream  
Lost to the night  
I feel so alone_

Andrew gasped, as though drawing his first breath. He shot up, back rigid and straight, breathing heavily. Raspy, dry breaths burned salt-stung lungs. He swallowed awkwardly, the solid lump in his throat remaining firmly in place. His eyes closed and he sank back down, sore and bruised back protesting at the weight of his body. He could feel the ridges of the wood beneath the thin mattress.

"Sir?"

His mouth was slightly open, lips loosely parted. The murky voice came to nearly drowned ears.

"Sir! Sir, you're awake!"

Andrew opened his eyes. The boy slowly came into a dizzying focus.

The boy smiled. He couldn't have been older than twelve.

"W-here…?" His voice cracked and broke, dragging across his raw throat.

"You're aboard the _Lovely Lass_. We found you clingin' to a piece of wood, nearly a week ago."

Andrew drew in a sharp breath, ribs protesting. "Storm."

The boy's face darkened, "We assumed you'd been shipwrecked. We narrowly missed it. You're lucky to have survived, Sir."

Andrew blinked slowly.

"Sir…" The boy's eyes seemed to light up, as he curved his shoulders forward, leaning in, "If it's not improper to ask: what ship were you aboard? And where are you stationed?"

"_Dauntless_." Andrew said softly.

The boy's mouth fell open, "The _Dauntless_, sir?" His voice fell. He nodded, solemnly. After a moment, he asked again, "What's your name, Sir?"

"G-Gillette… Andrew."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Andrew. I've never met a real officer in the Royal Navy, before."

It took a moment for Andrew's sea-logged brain to realize that the boy's gaze was fixed on his coat, hanging from the edge of the bed. He started to tell him he was just a lieutenant. He stopped, leaving the boy to his happy illusions.

"I'll leave you know, Mr. Andrew. I'll tell the Captain an' the surgeon you've awoken." He nodded and started towards the door. He stopped, turning back. His voice dropped to a low murmur. "Sir, if you don't mind me askin'…"

Andrew nodded, feeling sleep take him, once again.

"Who is Teddy, Sir?"

Andrew's eyes opened, holding wide. _Teddy… Teddy, no… please, no…_ "Teddy?"

"Yes, Teddy, sir… you cried out, for him."

Andrew's face was devoid of all expression for several long moments. Slowly, the sadness flooded over him.

"'M sorry, Mr. Andrew…"

_You promised you'd be there  
Whenever I needed you  
Whenever I call your name  
You're not anywhere  
I'm trying to hold on  
Just waiting to hear your voice  
One word, just a word will do  
To end this nightmare_


	3. III

_You promised you'd be there  
Whenever I needed you  
Whenever I call your name  
You're not anywhere  
I'm trying to hold on  
Just waiting to hear your voice  
One word, just a word will do  
To end this nightmare_

"I think you for you kindness, but I must return to Port Royal."

"I understand. Though I still don't understand how a man of the Royal Navy ended up so far out here. Godspeed to you."

It would only be a day's travel to the nearest island from their current coordinates. From there, he could find his way back.

Andrew leaned against the railing. The cool breeze was light against his face. He heard soft footsteps behind him and turned around, to see the boy standing there.

"You're going home then, Mr. Andrew?" He asked, smiling softly.

Andrew hesitated. "Yes."

"I'm glad for it. Port Royal must be in need of an officer like you."

Andrew nodded. He didn't have the heart to tell the boy his actual rank, even now. Let him have his dreams. He shrugged off his uniform coat. The edges had frayed and it was heavily salt stained, pieces of gold brocade peeling away from their stitching.

"Here, take it." He pushed it away from himself.

The boy's mouth fell open, "Sir…"

"I won't be needing it."

The small fingers curved slowly around the thick fabric. His eyes were wide with wonderment and disbelief.

"Put it on."

He tugged the full-sized dress coat on. The sleeves hung far past his fingertips, the shoulders hanging loosely, the length ended it past his knees, not far from his ankles. He laughed.

Andrew breathed slowly, face unchanging. "Godspeed, Sirrah. And good luck to you."

"Thank you, Sir." The boy said in earnest. "I'll never forget your kindness."

"Norrington? Commodore… Where have you been these past months? There's no Commodore here. Resigned, didn't he? After loosing the _Dauntless_ and all Her crew."

"You were on the _Dauntless_? You speak madness, man- no one survived. Save the Commodore himself, and he came back nearly mad."

"You've been taking to the rum. All the men were lost."

"The Commodore's not been heard of or seen in nearly two months."

"Groves? No… No one by that name's been 'round here. Who are you?"

"Lieutenant _Gillette_? Sir… Is that really you? But… but I thought everyone aboard the _Dauntless_ was lost… The Commodore himself said it himself. He thought he was the only survivor."

Andrew was relieved to find his house remained his own, at least for the time being. The windows were closed and locked, the curtains drawn. The maid surely would have found other work by now.

The door protested against opening, creaking and groaning loudly on its hinges. Dust filtered down. The rooms were dark, coated in a layer of grime. No one had set foot inside since he had left.

He heavily made his way up the stairs, bodily opening his bedroom door. He collapsed onto the bed. He drew his knees up to his chest, holding them close. He buried his face as salty tears spilled down pallid cheeks.

"Teddy…"

He didn't leave the house. He hardly left the bedroom, staying deathly still on the bed. When the nightmares hit he thrashed and cried and screamed. Begged for mercy from the invisible hands, reaching and tearing at him as he desperately searched for escape.

He jerked violently, flying from the bed. He stumbled down the stairs, throwing open the back door. The cold bite of the pre-dawn hours hit his exposed skin.

He drug his feet through the dirt of the overgrown garden, catching weeds that had sprung up on the once carefully tended paths. His tattered silk stockings pressed into the dirt and sand. Runs spider webbed across the fabric, several toes stuck out from the tear in the seam.

He tripped and fell forward, barely catching himself on weak arms. He let his weight press him down, bearded cheek resting on a stone.

He had never let his beard grow, before. Now, he did not care. He didn't shave. He didn't bathe. He hadn't changed his clothes since the hurricane. They clung to him, filthy and smelling heavily of stale salt. He didn't care.

He closed his eyes, letting exhaustion take him.

Once deft hands struggled with the cork of the dusty bottle, grasping and pulling, trying to wedge the stopper from its place in the bottleneck.

Frustrated, he smashed it on the table, sending shards of glass flying. He drew the bottle to his lips, ignoring the sharp edges. He gulped deeply.

He coughed and sputtered, dropping the nearly full bottle to the floor. Dark brown liquid splashed and soaked into his dirty stockings and onto grimy breeches.

Andrew swallowed hard. He couldn't drink. All he wanted was something to numb the pain. He sank to the floor, wiping his bleeding lip with the back of a filthy hand, crimson blood smearing across the dingy cuff of his tattered shirt. It dripped down, catching on the thick, red beard.

_Teddy._

He awoke late in the afternoon to the sound of knocking at his front door. He raised his head slowly from his place on the floor. He pushed himself up, swaggering into the main entryway.

The knocking came again, steady and loud. Whoever it was, they were not about to go away.

"Oh, my…"

Andrew stared at her as she stood on his doorstep, basket hanging from one arm, hat set carefully and elegantly atop her head, dress flawless and of the height of style in London, no doubt.

"Lieutenant… Gillette." Elizabeth said slowly, staring at the broken figure before her.

He stepped back, after a moment. The only indication she was invited in.

She stepped slowly inside, turning back as he pushed the door closed. "I heard… the rumors, that you had returned." She said, swallowing.

Andrew nodded once.

"I thought, you might need… might want…" Elizabeth found she couldn't keep take her eyes away from his sorry state. "I brought you something to eat." She said, finally, quietly, offering the basket.

Andrew's eyes fell downward to the offering. He reached out a hand and took it from her, lifting the cloth covering and peering inside. The smell of the fresh soup and biscuits waffled up, assaulting him.

"Sit down." He said, voice gruff and harsh. He had not spoken in weeks, now. He went to the sitting room and sat heavily down on a chair.

Elizabeth followed.

He didn't see her to the door. He lifted his head again and she as gone, leaving him alone in the house once again.

He drew in a heavy breath, sliding out of the chair, to the dusty floor. He reaching to the basket, pulling out a soft, freshly baked biscuit.

He took a slow bite.

The food tasted like ash.

_When will the dawning break  
Oh endless night  
Sleepless I dream of the day  
When you were by my side  
Guiding my path  
I can't find the way_


	4. IV

_When will the dawning break  
Oh endless night  
Sleepless I dream of the day  
When you were by my side  
Guiding my path  
I can't find the way_

_"Why won't you talk to me?" His back was to the sea. _

_"What?" The ginger-haired midshipman turned his head, wiping his nose with the back of his hand quickly. _

_Theodore stepped lightly to come beside him, sitting down on the sea chest. The door clicked shut behind him. _

_"You know you can trust me. Why don't you?" Theodore asked. He reached his arms up and set them around Andrew's smaller shoulders. _

_Andrew looked at his friend with shy eyes. He dropped his gaze. _

_Theodore gently curved his fingers beneath the other boy's chin. "Don't be ashamed." He smiled softly. _

_"You'll do just fine, Theo." Andrew tried to reassure his dark-haired friend as he sat in the middle of the scattered papers and books across the floor. _

_"What? Oh, Andrew…" Theodore looked up, dazed. "Sorry." He leaned forward to gather some of the things up, to un-clutter their small, shared quarters, "I'll clean it up…"_

_"It's all right, Theo." Andrew smiled softly, coming to sit down next to him. _

_Theodore gave a half-smile, sheepishly. _

_"You'll be fine. Soon I'll be looking at Lieutenant Groves." Andrew said seriously. _

_"I wish I had your confidence. Why don't you take the test, you certainly know all this. Unlike me. Maybe I should wait until the next round… I still don't-" His voice was muffled, as were his worries, by Andrew's lips pressed against his own. _

_Andrew drew away, gasping. His face flushed, "I…" He felt Theodore's hand come to cup the side of his face, cool against his heated skin. He looked up shakily, meeting Theodore's brown eyes. _

_Theodore grinned at him, "I thought you'd never…"_

_"It was the easiest way to shut you up."_

_The letter shook in his trembling hands. Andrew closed his eyes, bowing his head. _

_On the tiny nightstand beside the bed, the candle flickered, threatening to go out. _

_He looked over at his sleeping companion. Theodore lay still on his side, breathing slowly. The flickering light highlighted the curves and lines of his face. He turned back to the letter. _

_He had read it so many times, now. He couldn't quite believe it, each time. Slowly the news had begun to sink in. His hands held onto the letter, coming to rest in his lap as he sat up in bed. He sighed heavily. _

_"Bad news?"_

_Andrew turned his head, "I didn't mean to wake you." He said softly. _

_"Are you all right?"_

_Andrew bit his lip. _

_Theodore wordlessly pulled back the covers from himself and slid out of bed. _

_Andrew didn't protest when he climbed into the small cot with him. He shifted over, giving him more room. _

_Theodore wrapped his arms around him, drawing him close. He laid his hand on top of Andrew's. _

_Andrew shifted, the folded and creased paper revealing its contents. _

_Theodore read over his shoulder. He inhaled slowly. "I'm sorry, And'."_

_"The perils of being so far from home… I was never able to say goodbye…" Andrew squeezed his eyes shut. _

_Theodore said nothing. He held his lover tightly, rocking him gently. _

_Andrew sobbed into him, clinging to Theodore's arms. He was his strength when his own had run out. _

Andrew opened his eyes.

The room was quiet and empty. He drew his arms around himself, shivering through he was covered by the blankets.

Tears began to slide down his face. He gasped and trembled. So alone. The world had turned its back on him, treated as though he had ever existed.

His life was gone. Theodore was gone.

_I will never leave you._

He choked.

He felt tender, soft hands brushed across his cheek, fingers running through his hair.

Andrew swallowed hard.

_Hush._ Theodore pressed a reassuring kiss to pale and cracked lips.

His hand slid down his chest, fingers unlacing his breeches.

Andrew groaned as his partially erect member brushed against the rough sheets. He breathed hard, hand closing around himself.

He stroked slowly, easily bringing him into full hardness.

Rough hands slid up and down the solid length of his thickening cock. He ran his thumb over the weeping tip. Slicked fingers clenched, sending fiery shots of radiating pleasure up his spine.

Andrew's breathing hitched in his throat, ragged and heady. He moaned and arched his back, pushing his hips up.

Theodore's lips closed around his throbbing shaft.

He bucked his hips, mouth falling open. His red hair, salt-drenched and tangled, falling across the pillow.

He clenched his teeth, body tensing. He came hard, seed dampening the sheets. He relaxed completely, body lying limply against the feather mattress. His wilting flesh came to rest against the strewn laces.

Andrew's breathing slowed, coming to a steady beat. He curled on hi side, solitary figure engulfed in the large bed. A soft smile crossed his tired face.

"Teddy…" He murmured.

_Mon chéri._

_You promised you'd be there  
Whenever I needed you  
Whenever I call your name  
You're not anywhere  
I'm trying to hold on  
Just waiting to hear your voice  
One word, just a word will do  
To end this nightmare_

Mon chéri – My love


	5. V

_You promised you'd be there  
Whenever I needed you  
Whenever I call your name  
You're not anywhere  
I'm trying to hold on  
Just waiting to hear your voice  
One word, just a word will do  
To end this nightmare_

It was the first place he went, after he set foot on home soil after the hellish travels that led him back.

The house was dark, curtains drawn and windows closed shut. It looked deserted. Empty and abandoned.

The door opened with surprising ease. He mentally curved whoever had dared come in, probably looking for what valuables were to be found inside.

_Have respect for the dead._

As he passed through the silent house, his ill-gotten boots made distorted footprints on the dust-covered floor.

The staircase lead to what had become so familiar to him, over the years from the time the house was newly bought.

His weathered and rag-wrapped hand slowly closed around the door handle, turning the cool metal.

What he saw before him was not what he expected.

Andrew lay sleeping on the bed. His red hair shone against the off-white pillow, skin pale as ever.

Theodore had always wondered how Andrew stayed so pale, even in the Caribbean.

He slowly inched towards the bed.

Andrew's breathing was slow and steady. His chest hardly moved, as he did when in a deep sleep. He looked like an angel, wrapped in the curving arms of the blankets, hugging his thin frame. He was an angel. Theodore's own.

He reached a hand out, fingers extending to touch the fire he had become entranced with so many years ago.

Theodore stopped, holding just short of him. He could not touch Andrew. His beautiful dream would disappear, if he tried. He could not let the perfect image leave him, ever. He drew back. He closed his eyes. He turned, and headed for the door. He had to leave this house. Going to Andrew's house had been a mistake. There was no use chasing the past.

I know that the night must end  
And that the sun will rise  
And that the sun will rise  
I know that the clouds must clear  
And that the sun will shine  
And that the sun will shine 


	6. VI

_I know that the night must end  
And that the sun will rise  
And that the sun will rise  
I know that the clouds must clear  
And that the sun will shine  
And that the sun will shine  
_

**Wake up.**

Andrew gasped, eyes opening wide. He shivered, feeling a sudden chill accompanying the deep and phantom voice. He swallowed hard.

He suddenly felt as though he was not alone. His eyes slid to the door, fearful of what he would see.

"Teddy…"

Theodore stopped. He closed his eyes. He did not turn around, lest he shatter the dream of Andrew, still sleeping peacefully on the bed. His voice was so loud, so distinct in his ears. It took all his broken will to hold himself steady. He grabbed the doorframe for support.

"Teddy… vous sont là-bas?"

Theodore let out the breath he didn't even realize he had been holding. He turned around, back facing the door.

Andrew sat up slightly in bed, staring at him.

Neither man spoke.

"And'…" Theodore croaked, around the lump in his throat, voice rough and hoarse.

Andrew's lips were parted slightly as he breathed. He could only stare. He saw a vision before him. Touch it, and the mirage would disappear, forever.

Theodore took a single step forward, as if the house would collapse around him, as though it were made of sand near the rising tide.

"This is not a dream." Andrew said harshly. His eyes held open wide, unblinking.

"And'…" Theodore breathed. He came to the bed under a power not his own.

Andrew threw the blankets aside, darting up to meet him. His thin hands gripped Theodore's shoulders in a death grip as he pulled him to his body, dragging both of them to the bed. He pressed a hard kiss to Theodore's lips, bruising the tender skin.

Theodore's eyes slid closed, feeling his lover against him. No, it was not a dream. Andrew was real. _He_ was real.

"Teddy… oh, God, Teddy…"

Andrew's hands tore at his clothing, pulling and yanking it away. Buttons were torn from their threads, laces ripped in their haste, shirts wrenched off between feverish and desperate kisses.

Theodore did not fight it. His tired body protested against the uncharacteristic frenzied hands, normally so soft and gentle, filled with tenderness. He had never seen Andrew like this before.

"It's you… My Teddy…"

Andrew's hands closed around his lover's member, already attentive. He ground his hips against him, bringing himself into full hardness. "Teddy… Teddy, make love to me…" He breathed headily into his ear, rough beard scratching his face, through the days or so stubble there.

"And'…"

"Please." Andrew breathed.

Theodore kissed him, silencing him. He pushed Andrew onto his back, moving to lie on top of him, between widespread legs. He didn't pull off his breeches, or Andrew's. They wiggled them down to their ankles, out of the way, and out of mind. He slicked himself with his own precum. Fingers pressed against the tight ring of muscle, penetrating hard and fast.

Andrew moaned, arching his back. He writhed beneath him. He held on tight, digging his torn and ragged nails into Theodore's tight shoulder blades.

Theodore shifted his weight and entered his lover in a single, hard thrust. His own need flooded through his veins, clouding his vision and his mind.

Andrew cried out. It had been so long. He didn't care. The pain was bliss. There was no line to dance with, to tease, to cross.

Theodore thrust, pulling in and out, burying himself to the hilt each time, pressing harder in. He ground Andrew into the mattress.

Andrew kissed him hard, nipping and biting at tender lips. He breathed hard. There was no rhythm between them, there would be none to find. Their love was frenzied and desperate.

With loud and animalistic cries, they came together. Theodore buried deep with his lover, Andrew against his taunt stomach, sticky seed between them, mingling with sweat and dirt and blood.

They fell against each other. Theodore slid to the side, pressing into the feather mattress. Andrew turned on his side slowly, looking at him. He saw the pain in his chocolate brown eyes.

"Teddy… Oh, God… _Teddy_."

Theodore's lips were purple with marks, blood trickling from an overzealous bite. His face was haggard and gaunt. Deep bags adorned his face, just under his eyes. Two days worth of stubble was rough against a normally clean-shaven face.

Andrew shook. He let out a painful sob.

"And'…" Theodore breathed. He felt his bruised and battered body protesting.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" Andrew laid trembling hands on Theodore's face, gently stroking his dirty hair.

Theodore swallowed. It was not his pain that worried him. He nearly didn't feel it. As he watched the scene before him, he felt it fade into nothingness.

"I… I hurt you…"

"You're safe."

"I lost… everything."

Theodore wrapped his arms around him, holding him close, ragged and dirty makeshift bandages and strips of cloth beginning to slide off, revealing the bright red beneath the dried browns.

"I thought I'd lost you." Andrew buried his head against Theodore's strong chest.

"I will never leave you." Theodore whispered, feeling the fatigue that had become so familiar to him in the past months. "I will always find my way back, to you."

_I know that the night must end  
I know that the sun will rise  
And I'll hear your voice deep inside  
I know that the night must end  
And that the clouds must clear  
The sun  
The sun will rise  
The sun  
The sun will rise…_

The End

Vous sont là-bas? – Is this a dream?


End file.
